


First Day of Forever

by mystic_hyacinth



Category: Original Work, Voltage Series
Genre: All in the Family, Avel gets 'the talk', Crossdressing, Daddy Issues, F/M, Femdom, Futanari, Pegging, Rampant Misandry, Royal Wedding, Shapeshifting, Some Humor, Uncle/Niece Incest, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, boys in lingerie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 05:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19078855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth
Summary: Avel Tyushnakov has always seen marriage as a spectator sport, never once in his life did he image he would be playing the field.





	First Day of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all the hits on "Come On, Come All"! I hope you guys enjoy this one!

  

  As the Providet, attending state weddings was something that had always been one of the more lighthearted and relaxing parts of the job. Usually, since Maksim always had three or more petty squabbles going on with some foreign leader, he always ended up sitting the ceremonies out. I was always more than happy to attend in his place with Cade or Nadia to accompany me. It seemed at least from my side of the aisle, that weddings always brought out the best in people. To have a day or several to put aside differences and focus on love and togetherness, I’m more than certain I would attend one every month if I could. It’s a beautiful spectator sport. 

However, I never expected that one day I would be the one playing.

None of this is to say I would live my entire life unmarried, but I feel like just how quick I went from “Shurshanov’s Most Handsome Bachelor” to “You’re Going to Be Wed in An Hour” is giving me whiplash. Even if we announced our engagement nearly two years ago (knowing my future wife, she really wanted to take her time planning so I gave her enough wiggle room to do so) I still can’t process that said engagement is up, the wedding is here and I’m sweating through my suit.

“ _Dyadya_ ,” Klem says, clasping a hand over my shoulder. “You keep sweating like this and the foundation is gonna end up all over your suit.” She came back home after everyone else, having to drag herself, her luggage, and her boyfriend all the way from Chicago to Dom Vlasti for the ceremony. For the last few days she’s been serving as a small comfort in the midst of my nervousness, as I’m not allowed to see my fiancee for the week leading up to the ceremony so as to prepare my mind. 

Although, I will admit that this tradition is more trouble than it’s worth. 

“Oh please, you’re still a little baby, talk to me once you know what this type of anxiety feels like.” I huff, sitting down on my bed. My niece is already dressed in her suit, what little hair she has is pulled into a bun. I dare say she’s in much better shape than I am.

“I have to live with the fact that any night Mitri could roll over and suffocate me in my sleep, don’t think your life is harder.” I can’t help but snort. I’ve met her Mitri, the quintessential boyfriend from Chicago and I can only say he’s very sweet, almost sickeningly so, but I’m not one to judge, especially if he makes her happy. 

It’s still so strange seeing her like this. Even if she’s just a little over thirty, the bratty toddler who insisted on terrorizing her younger siblings every chance she got is still the image that comes to mind every time I think of her. She frets with her cufflinks for a moment before her phone vibrates. 

“Fuck, it’s Ki. Apparently the bride is having a breakdown.”

 My chest tightens and I look over at her frantically, “Is she alright?”

Klem shrugs, “I mean, she’s probably just as nervous as you are, no big deal.”

I pull my now-frizzy hair back and let out a shaky sigh. Of course she’s nervous, she hasn’t seen her betrothed in a week and now she’s expected to just run into my arms as if nothing happened.

Mothers, how I even wish for that. I’m more touch-starved now than I was when I was fifteen.

“Please, just let me go see her and tell her everything’s going to be okay.” I plead with Klem, who doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I’ll tell Ki to tell her you said that, then.”

“You’re not listening to me.” I huff, coming off more churlish than worried and getting up from my seat on the bed. “Even with all the rehearsals, something is bound to go wrong. What if Vera is too sick too officiate? What if the limo breaks down? What if the chapel catches fire?”

“Ki can officiate, I’ll fix the limo and we’ll have an outdoor ceremony.”

 I sit back down on the bed and go to put my head in my hands, knowing what little makeup I have on isn’t going to come off just from this. Klem comes to sit next to me and wraps her arm about my shoulder.

“Come on you old goat, you’ve been waiting for this your whole life. You know she loves you more than anything.” 

“It’s not her.” I mutter. “It’s me. What if it’s not me she truly wants? She’s young and beautiful and still so full of life.” I make a sweeping gesture. “She needs a man more like her, not so old and worn out like me. Someone who she won’t waste all of her youth on and look back at all those lost days with regret. She needs someone carefree and lighthearted, not someone who will weigh her down with all the extra baggage. She needs beauty, youth, carelessness, she’s too good to be burdened with age.” I sigh, leaning back and looking outside at the still-dark early morning.

I glance over to Klem again, checking her nails and looking like she’s barely listening. I groan, “Did you pay attention to any of that?”

“Are you done with your little pity party or do you want me to give you some extra time before we leave?”

I open my mouth and try to say something, but she’s already stolen the words from me. “If I know my sister, I know that if she genuinely didn’t love you as much as she does, she would make it clear pretty early on.” she shakes me a little. “You’re not just some bitter old fuck who shuts himself in his library all day to wallow and watch hentai, you’re  _ her  _ bitter old fuck who shuts himself in his library all day to wallow and watch hentai.”

“Thanks.” I deadpan.

“You’re welcome.” she grins, “My point is, she wouldn’t lie to you all these years about this and she damn well isn’t doing this for money and some half-assed pity sex. She has enough connections where she could do that just fine without you knowing about it.”

“You’re saying my betrothed is unfaithful?”

“First of all, stop saying betrothed, you’re weirding me out.” she snaps. “I’m not saying she’s unfaithful, I’m saying she loves you because you’re _you_ , not because of all this shit you’re not and she’s going to marry you because she loves you, understood?” she says like she’s scolding a child, but I can’t say I blame her.

I’m quiet for a moment and Klem leans her head on my shoulder, her horns pressing up against my collarbone. “You’ve been through worse than this, Dyadya. You’re gonna be alright.”

She pats my shoulder and I sigh. I  _ have _ been through worse, if the Devil is real I have to fight her the second I open my eyes every morning lest she drag me to the Pits.

And yet my beloved was there through all of it, she’s most of what kept it from being so much  _ worse _ . 

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

The phone goes off again and Klem suddenly springs to her feet. “They’re about to leave, are you ready?”

I stand up on shaky feet and she’s already tossing my coat at me.  “As I’ll ever be.”

We head downstairs, accompanied by only a couple guards and what little wits we have. The chefs are working double trying to prepare for the reception and so the house is blanketed in the dense fog of good cooking.

 I know when I come back to the house later everything would have changed, the rest of my life would have already started. We step outside into the humid spring morning and  the limo opens. Twenty minutes’ drive across the Neva to the chapel. Twenty minutes until the rest of my life begins. Klem holds my quivering hand and I try to collect myself.

The door to the limo closes and there is no turning back. 

 

💝

 

Hundreds of people packed the closed streets as we made our way to the chapel, screaming and smiling and throwing rice and flowers as we went. I was told that the expected influx of people into Dom Vlasti where somewhere in the thousands and frankly, I find myself blushing at all the attention. 

Propokaya Fenya Chapel sits in the midst of all of the government buildings opposite the Sobor. It’s not as grandiose and ornate as the other chapels in the city, with its chipping blue paint and wrought iron gate and definitely not as big, but nobody minds it. Twinkling beads of silver and orange laced on the gate are the only indication that there is, in fact a wedding taking place. 

We go around the back to park and when the driver finally kills the engine I feel my heart constrict once more. 

“Word is Her Majesty has been waiting for ten minutes.” Klem chirps, stepping out of the car and starting to make her way up the back steps. “Best not keep her waiting.”

I straighten myself out and follow her in.

The lights are turned low, with most of the light coming in through the windows. No music plays, not a sound is heard. I know she’s in there, right through those vestibule doors my beloved awaits me and yet I’m more jittery than I’ve ever been. Klem links her arm with mine and squeezes it.

“No turning back, got it, soldier?” she whispers and kisses my cheek. “You got this.”

I nod, smooth down my hair one more time ad the doors slowly open.

 Guards line either side of the aisle and the scene is tinted red by the tiny lights above us. Klem and I proceed slowly up the aisle and I see her, back turned, silky dress just barely touching the floor, clasping her mother and her brothers’ hands.

I want to cry, but I bite my lip to hold it in.

When I get close enough to see her, Cade and Kieran step away and Vera looks over and smiles. She’s dressed in full military garb, her badges and medals polished meticulously and her short hair smoothed back. I glance over at my beloved, who insisted on having a veil, and I curse her for her fashion sense.

“Avel Tyushnakov,” Vera says it almost at a whisper. “Is there anyone here to give you away to your beloved?”

I gesture beside me and Klem steps forward, clearing her throat. “I, Klementina Tyushnakov, Avel's niece, give my consent that he should be wed.”

Vera turns to Nadia, “Nadia Tyushakov, is there anyone here to give you away your beloved?”

“I, Cadence Kinnarney, Nadia’s mother, give my consent that she should be wed.” Cade says, voice as clear and high as a bell.

“And I, Kieran Tyushankov, Nadia’s brother, give my consent that she should be wed.”

 Vera smiles and I can tell she’s trying to keep the tears from her eyes as well. She turns to the Regional Priestess, a old, pink Nymph with massive horns sitting a few feet behind her. “Your Holiness, I, Vera Ponomarenko, Captain of the Royal Guard and close friend of Avel and Nadia Tyushnakov, offer them up to you so that they may be joined together in perfect union.”

The Priestess arises from her chair and grips her cane. “Thank you, Captain.” Vera steps aside and the old Priestess looks up at both of us. 

“May I say to the gathered party that I have known these two for a long time and I never thought I’d live to see the day when you,” she points to me. “Were to be wed.” I smile.

She says a prayer, asking the Mothers to bless us and keep us with them throughout all of our days and I can feel my hands sweating into Nadia’s opera gloves, hopefully she doesn’t notice.

“You may lift the veil, Avel.” I do it almost too eagerly, nearly elbowing Nadia in the face as I go.

 To gaze upon her is to know the very definition of beauty and love. I almost want to kiss her as if I have been shipped off to war for years and only just now have I been allowed to see her again. My hands shake and a wavering sigh leaves me. Nadia smiles and her eyes shimmer, she squeezes my hand and I am like a ship that has been steadied after a dangerous storm.

“Before the rings are presented, it is required the couple state the vows they have written.”

Nadia starts without hesitation: “My dearest Avel,” she coos, as if there were no one else in the room but us. “There have been times, where I have questioned my place in the world. If I was truly a princess or merely an orphan with a nice house. If I was truly meant to be Providet. If was truly worth of any of the love and affection you gave me. There were many lonely nights where I would cry myself to sleep, thinking that I was never good enough for anyone, especially not you. I would go out of my way to please you in an attempt to prove my worth, until I had run myself ragged.” she bites her lip. “But yet, you would remind me of the worth I did have, made sure that I was always aware of who I was and what I was capable of. You made me see that I truly could mean something to someone outside of my titles and status, that the orphan girl from Moscow could truly be loved without having to do anything, that simply being me was reason enough to be cared for.” she squeezes my hands. “I am more whole because of you and whatever time I have left on this earth, I wish to spend it all with you.” 

“Now you, Avel.” the Priestess says with a smile. I take in shaky breath and speak. 

 “My life has not been easy. I have seen people I love leave and die and disappear, and I alone have been left to pick up the pieces. I have, over the years, learned to trust in no one and nothing and had I remained without you, I would have most likely stayed the same.” I sigh, before looking up and smiling at her. “But the moment you stepped into my life I realized that there are things worth trusting, worth loving and worth living for. You showed me that life does not end when it is at its darkest, that the morning always comes. You have been that for me, the solitary star in my night sky, the single blooming rose in the wintertime, healer of wounds and mender of all things broken.” Klem lays a hand on my shoulder as I start to choke on my words. I take a deep breath and keep going.

“You are my light, Nadia Tyushnakov and for you I would give anything.” 

Nadia smiles and I hear sniffles coming from Kieran. Who knew we were all so emotional? 

“Now, I am told the couple has opted out of receiving bonding marks and would instead like to be presented with blood rings, am I correct?” says the Priestess, we both nod and Kieran presents the rings to the Priestess.

We repeat after her our promises to protect one another through times of joy and of hardship, to be kind and steadfast in our love for each other and those around us, to allow each other to find the strength in trusting and caring for one another, to be honest, to be faithful, and be there for one another through the darkest of days. Even if I’ve rehearsed these lines a dozen times over, I have never meant or felt more genuine about anything my entire life. The Priestess slips the rings on both of our fingers and we clasp our hands tighter. I gaze down at it, slightly pinkish and red and not the solid silver as the one I gave to her. A single tear rolls down my cheek before I can catch it.

 We say another prayer and have crowns placed atop our heads, an old Soviet tradition I think. 

The Priestess grabs our hands and whispers, “In the sight of those who have given you away, myself and the Divine Gaze of Our Ancestral Mothers, I join you two for as long as your volts burn brightly in your veins.” she lets us go. “If you wish to, you may kiss.”

I don’t hesitate to do just that, my heart bursting at the feel of her lips against mine. 

There are few hugs and kisses all around before Vera produces the official Decree of Union for us to sign. I can barely see it through my tears. My wife, Nadia. Besides me for all eternity. We lean on each other as we sign our names, joined teardrops soaking through the page. 

My beloved. My darling. The love of my life. My Nadia. 

 

💝

 

Despite the ride to chapel being only twenty minutes, our procession through Dom Vlasti lasted over two hours. We drove all the major roads and historical landmarks in the city, greeted by the joy of all of Shurshanov. We waved and blew kisses through the bulletproof windows, and greeted the flash of cameras with glee.

As for Nadia, I held her hand the whole way. 

We made it back to the Sobor by early afternoon, with the reception scheduled to start at around four and going till Mothers know when (most likely till we run out of good wine). We had our photos taken in the garden and following that, set out on a walk through it, hands entwined and trying to get away from the reminder that more was to come later on.

The silk of her wedding dress clings to her legs with every step forward, and the little cotton shrug she has about her shoulders slips just slightly every few moments. The diamonds in her ears (a gift from her mother) swing and twinkle in the light of an endless afternoon. Her smile so radiant that the flowers themselves seem to turn to her as she walks by them.

And I, like a sunflower in late August, would follow her all my numbered days.

“These,” she rattles the numerous bangles of mismatched diamonds and pearls on her wrist. “All Kieran’s idea, he says he couldn’t remember if he’d left them here or brought them with him on tour.”

“I highly doubt that  _ those  _ have ever seen the inside of one of his gigs.”

“Don’t be so out of touch, darling. He’s slated to play Madison Square Garden on his next tour, I should go.”

She marries an old man and is upset when he’s out of touch, what a woman. “Didn’t he just get off a tour in the winter?”

“That was the _ European _ tour.” she emphasizes it, “The  _ American _ tour starts in July.” 

I laugh a little, “Are you back to being his tour manager like you were when you were younger?”

She giggles and brushes her finger against some of the bluebells as she passes by them. “I never stopped being his tour manager, Avel. I merely got a job on the side.”

I snort, knowing damn well when she’s not working she loves to scour the internet looking for any grainy video she can find from his most recent live shows. Despite my protests she has barred me from watching any of them, something about how I would never be able to look at Kieran the same way again.

I have no clue what that boy does when he gets on stage, but I feel like whatever I imagine of it is probably worse than what it actually is.  

She looks out at the garden as we go, big curls kicking up ever so slightly in the wind. “You already know I’ve dreamed of my wedding day since I was a little girl, I just never truly realised that when that day came I wouldn’t be carried off by some roguish prince to his castle in the mountains,” she giggles and shakes her head, looking back over at me. “I always thought angels would come down from heaven to sing for us and a thousand white doves wearing little bow ties would be released as we kissed.” she lets go of my hand and steps forward, spreading her arms wide as if to mimic the vista in her fantasy. “The sunset would shine upon both of us and the doves would take us to his castle in the mountains and I could stay there forever.”

I go towards her and wrap my arms around her waist, leaning down for another kiss. “Well I’m sorry I couldn’t afford doves and a sunset wedding, hopefully this is to your liking, princess.” 

She laughs and I feel the warmth of her breath against my lips, “Well you are more handsome than any other mountain prince.” 

“And you more beautiful than any fantasy princess.”

“ _ Queen. _ ”  she corrects me with a little wink. “You kissed me and made a Queen of me.”

“And you a fool of me.”

“You were already a fool.” she kisses me again. I still don’t know if she can be both Queen and Grand Providet at the same time and nobody has really bothered to clear it up since we announced our engagement. Not that I’m emasculated by her two titles or anything, but I’ll admit it is a bit of pride to have such a powerful woman besides me like this.

Okay, a little more than pride, but she’ll never know that.

She fiddles with the buttons on my suit, murmuring something about how I shouldn’t choke myself with my collar like this lest she has to make love to a dead man later. I can’t help but laugh.

“Did you have any surprises planned for later, dearest one?” I arch a brow and pretend not to notice her blush.

“Maybe a few, but they wouldn’t be surprise if I told you.” wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me again, slowly and ever deepening almost as if she’s afraid I’ll fall asleep on her later and wants me to just take her in the bed of poppies right behind her. 

I mean, not that I’m entirely opposed to the idea, but I doubt she would want to risk getting her dress dirty before the reception.

“Ahem!” calls a voice some ten feet away, I only open my eyes to look but don’t break the kiss.

Cade stands hands on hips and dress changed from the dark blue lace number she had on in the chapel to a nude, shimmering body of work and a silver headdress. “There’s plenty of time for that after the reception, isn’t there?”

“Am I not allowed to be affectionate?” I say, Nadia looks thoroughly embarrassed even if her mother just watched us kiss in the chapel a few hours ago.

“Mum, do I have to go?” she whines as Cade takes her hand.

“You can’t stay in that silky thing the whole reception, the tailor is waiting and your brother wants to see you, up you go!” she fusses and Nadia gives me one last parting kiss before scampering off with her mother.

Damn it, if I knew she would be running off like this I would have just taken her here, but I suppose I can wait for my surprise later on. 

 

💝

 

The big difference between Nymph and human weddings is moreso just where the emphasis is put, humans like to put more fanfare at the ceremony than at the reception, Nymphs are the exact opposite. Our weddings are small, but everyone who’s anyone comes to the reception. 

This one is no exception.

There was a fair bit of pushback when people found out that the bride would be my niece, the most infamous of which being when my brother Maksim, after having been ‘on hiatus’ and keeping a low profile (save for a couple appearances in trash tabloids), loudly proclaimed on French public radio that he would on no circumstances go to the ceremony and called the whole thing a “slap in the face to morals, a perversion of love and a besmirching of the Tyushnakov family name”. 

I’ll give him credit, I didn’t think he actually knew what ‘besmirching’ meant. 

Despite the initial pushback, the attendance numbers are well into the hundreds and I can hear their commotion from behind the vestibule doors. Nadia holds up the edge of her mermaid gown despite not really needing to, it hugs her hips even more snugly than her dress from the ceremony earlier, the light orange of the fabric combined with her pale skin look like a sweet sherbert for a hot day like this and I can’t take my eyes off her.

In true Tyushnakov fashion, she knows she is beautiful and simply waits for other people to tell her as well. 

The doors open and we walk in last behind our wedding party, accompanied six members of the  by the Royal Guard. Though the crowds were told to remain silent until everyone sat down out of respect, the rules were largely ignored and people cheered and cried out the we step into view from the vestibule. Music plays loudly but still does nothing to drown out the crowd’s noise. I can feel my wife’s hand shake as we go. Kieran makes a little detour as we get closer to the table at the end of the aisle. The Zolvosty Ballroom is still just as glittering and golden as it always has been, the lights are dimmed slightly, with most of the room being bathed in the kaleidoscopic lights from the stained glass and the orange and silver bunting and streamers only make the whole place feel as if we are all living in Nadia’s fantasy, I’m tempted to look around to see where we’re hiding the doves.

When we finally reach our seats there is more roarous applause and I am sure to kiss my wife right in front of all of them.

The applause finally dies down and soon we are ushered down from the tables and onto the wide clearing in between all the tables. Kieran, who had pretty much darted to the little stage on the side of the room when we got in, is now hunched over the old piano from upstairs, polished pristinely in the weeks leading up to the ceremony. The dress is clearly second hand, and he has an obnoxious amount of artificial orange and white flowers in his multicolored hair and he tries to wipe away tears as the room turns to him. I hold my wife on the center of the dancefloor. 

“Whenever I write music I always try to keep someone in mind, someone who deeply inspires me and who has kept me going. Sometimes it is my Mum, who taught me how to tread the line between grace and total badassery my entire life. Sometimes it’s my big sister who has shown me that I can never let anybody push me around, no matter how much they claim they love me. Sometimes it was my Dyadya, who encouraged me to never settle, always push forward no matter what and sometimes, it was my little sister, who has always taught me that the only beauty that really matters is what is inside.” he plays a few soft notes on the piano and smiles at both of us. 

“I wrote this song on the four hour flight from Geneva, about the two people whose love has taught me to be fearless, uncompromising and most of all, accepting of myself and the people around me. To Avel and Nadia, I wish you all the best.” 

The piano notes start to sync up and I’m swaying with Nadia on the dancefloor. She glides effortlessly, and several camera flashes go off around us. Kieran’s crooning serves as a delightful backdrop to the sight of her face illuminated in the reds and greens and yellows and blues from the stained glass. The room seems to orbit us as we twirl and she lays her head upon my chest, closing her eyes and allowing me to carry her. Music plays, the silent wistfulness of the crowd around makes me feel as if we are all dancing. I rest my chin on her head and dance with her, no words, barely any kisses just these solemn few moments of simply enjoying each other and pretending the outside world is a figment of both our imaginations. We just allow ourselves to float together. 

When Kieran finished his song he make a take a short pause, the room becoming awash in cheers and applause as we make our way back to our seats. I kiss Nadia on the cheek as Kieran leaves the little stage and someone else makes their way onto it. The figure is huge, thick and with a dark mess of curls unmistakable to anyone who knows them.

“First of all Avel and Nadia, I’m sorry I couldn’t make the ceremony, you know where my specialties lie.” rasps my youngest brother from the stage, holding his champagne flute and earning a small chuckle from the crowd. 

“From those of you that don’t know me, I’m Grisha Tyushnakov. I was born right here in this palace almost fifty years ago, and I’ve barely set foot in it for the last forty.” some more people laugh. “Like my big brother I am a bit of a diplomat, even though I believe the best way to get people to do what I want is not through drawn-out negotiations, but with a good meal and even better spirits.” Of course Grisha would treat this like stand-up, the irreverent little scamp. “Now I’m a bit of a homebody. I run a bakery and catering company out in Toronto and for the last ten years my life has hinged on it, I wouldn’t leave it for anything. But one night I get a call from this big idiot and he says to me he’s getting married.” he pauses for effect and looks over at me. “So, I tell him ‘if this is about that little thing you had back in Busan all those years ago,give it up Avel, he’s just not that into you.’” the crowd roars and I turn a bit purple, playfully waving him off. “But he keeps going he says, I have to do it, Grisha. I would give this girl the clothes off my back if I had to, I would sacrifice everything for her, the least I can do is make it official.” there's a soft 'aww' from the crowd.

“So tonight,” he raises his little flute of champagne. “A toast for good health, for good luck and for a good amount of royal babies to come. To Avel and Nadia!”

“To Avel and Nadia!” everyone chimes in. I love my baby brother.

“So, if you know anything about these two you know that they love to travel, which you know - makes mail impossible because I’m not sure you two still live here or if you’ve finally moved away to Japan.” I chuckle and Nadia turns away. “But in order to keep with the theme of love knowing no borders or boundaries, the each course in the meal will be taken from one of six different countries these newlyweds would rather visit than Canada.” a chorus of surprise and intrigue erupts around the room and Kieran practically runs back to his seat from behind the curtain.

“So we’ll be featuring tteok from Korea, miyabi onion soup from Japan, mint sorbet for your palate cleanser, so of course it's French. Spicy jerk because my brother is so full of surprises. Italian chop salad and to wind everything down, five layer Swiss chocolate cake, because apparently one heart attack wasn’t enough.” 

The crowd cheers and waiters immediately pour out of every corner of the room. 

I knew Grisha could cook, but goddamn it, I didn’t know he was such an artist in the kitchen. I was silent when the food was out, hurriedly scarfing down the soup and tteok and only speaking once my plate was cleared. Even Nadia was asking for more in order to store some of the tteok away in the folds of her dress. 

 “Mind those don’t come falling out later on tonight, darling.”  

She responds by stuffing one of them in my mouth, “Keep yourself quiet or this marriage will go unconsummated until next May.”

She sure knows how to negotiate, what a force of nature. 

After the jerk and salad I would much rather just cut my cake and go spend alone time with my wife, but we link arms and begin to make our rounds through the room. We weave effortlessly between the Italians and my good friends from Japan, trying our hardest not to stay too long at a single table lest we be accused of playing favorites. Vanya has taken to the dancefloor, swirling around with Lorelei with all the deftness and grace of a retired ballerina, but I don’t try to come in between it. I’m glad to see my big sister here regardless. The Omsk table chats quietly and I note the absence of Prince Jack from the table, something tells me Vanya is going to give me an earful about it later. 

I look out over the sea of people and notice Klem propped up at one of the tables, smiling and laughing down at someone with her suit jacket now flung carelessly over the back of the chair. My eyeline follows hers down to see her boyfriend, slightly red-faced but looking jovially up at his love as she whispers something in his ear from her seat on his lap. Oh, to be young and in love.

I pray she doesn’t break him, he seems nice.

Time passes and we’ve made our way over to the table of French diplomats, headed by  prime minister Peletier and her wife, Seline. Therese is gossiping quickly to my wife and Seline, sweet as she is, is pestering me about honeymoon plans. Nadia squeezes my hand under the table every few seconds as if trying to make sure I’m still alive. I want to slip away with her unnoticed but I know it's not going to happen, plus, there’s no room to be rude today.

Somewhere in between our conversation I’m given a tap on the shoulder and I turn to see Vera looking pale and frazzled. “There is a guest that would like to meet with you outside in the vestibule, Your Majesty.” she whispers, I narrow my brows at her and give Nadia a quick kiss on the cheek before excusing myself. 

I follow her towards the back of the hall, past the two tables containing her wife and all two dozen of her children. Lidiya gives me a quick wave and I wave back, Vera does not so much as turn in her direction.

My stomach turns with worry as we push past the vestibule doors, as far I know, all he guests have long since stopped coming, all the tables have been filled, all the food eaten, there are simply no more seats.

Vera stops in her tracks and takes a deep breath, “Presenting His Highness Maksim Fyodor Kazimir Tyushnakov Limonovna.” she says and an impossibly tall figure steps forward, the sunset streaming in from the windows casts a golden glow on sapphire skin and his eyes twinkle in it as well, no matter how dead they may appear to be. He’s just as done up, just as meticulous, just as put together as ever. He leans against the wall and sips his champagne, looking over at me as if  _ I _ were intruding on  _ his _ wedding.

“You look nice.” he says it slowly. “Thank you, Vera.” 

Vera practically runs out, allowing me the chance to step forward to get a good look at him. 

“You said you weren’t coming.”

“I lied, big whoop.” he sips his champagne and it takes everything in me not to slap it out of his hand.

“You couldn’t even be bothered to give her an explanation, you threw her away like she was nothing. You would rather her without a father than care for her like you should have.”  

“Listen, she’s still my daughter. I just..” he looks away, glancing at the vestibule doors almost longingly. “I wanted to see her.”

“So do it, go see her.”

“I already did, watched you two dance from the mezzanine.” she says it so nonchalantly, I’m trying not to appear to be seething, but I can’t help it. Not so much as a letter for all these years and now he wants to act like none of it happened.

“I’m sorry for what happened and I know I can’t change it. I also know damn well she probably wants nothing to do with me, neither do the other two or Cade. I just wanted to see her, Avel. I couldn’t  _ watch _ her grow up, but I wanted to see her finish doing so.” 

Something in me pauses, there’s no slyness or coyness and very few lies. He’s quiet, subdued, as if he’s entrusting me with another deep, dark secret. His eyes downcast and his hands shaky, I look down at him with something more akin with curiosity than pity. 

“You never so much as called her, we both saw that interview, as far as she’s concerned you hate her.”

“I lashed out at the wrong time, I wanted an audience to see just how jealous I was of you.”

_ Jealous? _ “Excuse me?”

“You! It was always you, Avel! You were always better for her, no matter how much I tried - I was never you.”

“Are you telling me you wanted to marry Nadia?”

“Mothers no, I wanted to be there for her, to be a better father, but I was too damn selfish and short-sighted that I couldn’t be, so I did the only thing that I knew was right. I wanted her to have the best and the best was  _ you _ .” 

He slams the champagne flute down out of frustration and looks over at me, grabbing me by my shoulders.“I only ask you take care of her, be kind to her, love her, show her everything I couldn’t. You understand?”

I nod hurriedly and he pulls me into a tight hug. “I love you, baby brother. Take care of yourselves. Please take care.” I swear his voice wavers and something wet touches my suit jacket.

Then the doors leading outside open and he’s gone. 

“Your Majesty.” Vera says, I didn't even hear the door open behind me, frozen with shock. “They're about to cut the cake.” I rush back out, smoothing down my hair and joining my Nadia at the steps leading up to where our tables are at the front of the room. 

 

💝

 

The cake towers over the two of us, white intricately done orange and silver decorations. I place my hand over hers as she sinks the knife down. “Brings back old memories, hrm? All these years and I’m still cutting up your food for you.”

Nadia blushes and pressing a short kiss to my lips as a small army of cameras goes off around us. 

The cake is doled out and I don’t miss out on my opportunity to feed it to my Nadia despite her embarrassment. 

“How does it compare, Mum?” chimes Kieran from the other end of the table.

“I mean,” she takes another bite of cake, chewing almost thoughtfully. “It’s definitely Swiss. I can tell, they really went all out on this one.” I have to laugh, seeing Cade going to disgruntled housewife to rich traveling lesbian has been a transition I have loved watching. 

My Nadia feeds me cake and I almost choke on how dense and rich it is, Grisha wasn’t kidding. “God damn it Grisha you brilliant glutton.” I say, going to inhale my slice as Nadia laughs at me.

“So as I suppose we’re taking a detour from Asia on the honeymoon to go to Canada?” Nadia asks, taking dainty bites out of her cake. 

“Of course. First, we hit the love hotels and then we go to Grilos for breakfast, I just have to find the damn address.” Nadia giggles and narrowly misses eating some of her hair when she goes in for her next bite. 

 I’m still in denial that she’s mine. 

I look around at a room overflowing with love. Kieran laughs at something else his Mum has whispered to him and she braids together some of the pink and green sections of his hair.  Vera and Lidiya sway gently on the dancefloor, lost in a world all their own as their children cause a ruckus back at the table. Lorelei looks like she’s falling asleep on her wife’s shoulder as Vanya speaks with someone next to her. Mitri and Klem have slipped off somewhere, their slices of cake left abandoned. Grisha fusses at his boyfriend, presumably about the food. All the friends and acquaintances I’ve made over the years, no matter how at odds they may be at each other they came together just one day to _ love _ .

And Maksim, who may or may not be looking down at me from the mezzanine again, wishing me good luck and that I take care of myself. My hands shakes and my heart beats all out of tune. I have made it here. Next month I will be sixty and if I die the month after, I would have been happy just  for this. 

“Dearest?” I whisper to her.

“Yes?” she looks up at me, warm brown eyes so full of light. 

“If this is to be the first day of the rest of my life, I surely hope they all feel just like this.”

I kiss my Nadia one more time, tasting rich Swiss chocolate on her lips and my entire body fills with the light of the setting sun.

 


End file.
